Forever Alive
by Araedia
Summary: She opened her eyes to see James scrambling into her lap, and for a second… she could see Fred in his wide brown eyes. For the Forgotten Family Ties competition.


**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

**Written for the Forgotten Family Ties Competition. My characters were Molly I and James, together with the prompt 'Red'.**

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><p>"Mum! <em>Mum<em>!"

Molly hurried into the kitchen as fast as she could on hearing her daughter's shouts from the fireplace. Her wand was out before she even registered the fact that she was grasping the slim piece of wood in her hand, a habit from the days of the Wizarding Wars that hadn't managed to shake off.

"Ginny!" Now that she saw her daughter's head in her fireplace, and she seemed perfectly fine (if a bit frazzled), Molly felt her grip on her wand relax. "Honestly, Ginny," she scolded, "You scared me! Haven't I –"

"Mum, it's an emergency!" Ginny cut her off. "Someone leaked a rumour about me rejoining the Harpies, and we've got sodding Daily Prophet reporters practically chasing us wherever we go. We're at the Leaky – Shit!" she cursed, her head disappearing for a moment. Molly could still hear her voice, though. "Harry –"

"Ginny, what –"

Harry's head appeared in her place, his glasses slightly off-kilter. "Sorry to bother you Molly, but would you mind watching James until we get this sorted out? Ginny and I don't want to expose him to the press so early on –"

The flames turned green, and Ginny stepped out of them, cradling a two year old James in her arms. "Thanks for watching him, we'll be back in the evening!" She waited until he was safely ensconced in Molly's arms and stepped back into the fire, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder. "Leaky Cauldron!"

"Oh, and Mum," her voice came, just before she disappeared, "James is in an inquisitive mood right now. You might have to spend the entire evening naming things."

Molly blinked. That was so like her daughter – she hadn't even been able to a word in. "Yes, of course, Ginny, I'll take him," she grumbled in an undertone.

Her lips split into a smile anyway as she looked down at the toddler who was cheerfully pulling at her greying hair. "Granna…"

Arthur had left with Ron and Hermione to Muggle London, and none of her other children were at the Burrow. It wasn't everyday that she got her grandchild to herself to spoil rotten.

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><p>"Tha'?" James pointed imperiously at the clock from his vantage point on the kitchen counter.<p>

"That's a clock, dear. C-l-o-c-k," she spelled out carefully. "And do you know what colour it is?"

James wrinkled his forehead in deep thought. "Red?" he finally offered.

"Close enough. That's brown." She pointed towards a bottle of strawberry jam on the top shelf. "That's red. What's that again?" The cooking pots behind her clanged, and she heard the sound of something shatter. She turned hurriedly, already beginning to clear away the mess. When she turned her attention back towards James, she saw him with the jar clutched in his tiny hands and red jam smeared all over his face.

"Gween!" he proclaimed proudly, holding out his red hands. As expected, the jar slipped from his sticky hands. What she didn't expect, however, that it would zoom around the room dropping its contents on her spick-and-span kitchen, finally crashing into the door.

"Oh, James…" She could already feel that it was going to be a long evening.

"And it's _red_."

"Bwack!"

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><p>She had made it her mission to teach him the difference between various colours. Before he left, James <em>would<em> know at least red, or else Arthur's nickname for her wouldn't be Mollywobbles, she vowed.

"Look, James! Isn't this a pretty train?" she said, holding the toy train out before him. "And it's red. Say it – red."

"Bwue!"

"Red. Say red, James," she cooed. "I'll give you this to take home if you do." Not even Molly Weasley was above a bit of bribery now and then.

There was a huge bang behind her, and she looked up in time to see _something_ explode into a cloud of feathers. She turned back to see James cradling the train, turning a pair of the most innocent eyes in her direction and a smile that was already melting her heart.

"James is a bad boy," she said, trying to be stern. "James is a very, very bad boy and Grandma is very angry with hi – Oh, don't cry!" Her lecture was cut short as James' big brown eyes immediately welled up with tears. She rushed over to him, picking him up. "Grandma didn't mean it, James is a very good boy!" she consoled him. He hiccupped, and sniffed.

She didn't even notice the smile on his face as he clutched his new toy harder.

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><p>"Puwple!"<p>

"It's red…"

"Mauve!"

She stared at his angelic expression incredulously. "You'll say _mauve_, but you won't say red? Come here, you little demon!"

She chased the giggling child around the house, finally stopping when his bursts of accidental magic had caused enough havoc so that even the Burrow (which wasn't the tidiest house to begin with), looked like a land mine had erupted in it.

"Granna... Geroff!" James squirmed in her arms as she tickled him mercilessly, having finally caught up to him. He slipped out of her hands and scampered away, hiding behind the big chair at the centre of the living room, occasionally peeking out to look at her.

She got up from the ground with a slight groan – her knees just weren't what they were before. _I haven't seen one tiny child cause so much chaos since Fred and George, _she marveled as she looked around the room. _He reminds me of them so very much… he reminds me of Fred._

_Fred…_

She sat down heavily in the nearest chair, her mood changing abruptly from cheerful and sunny to dark and overcast. It had been years, she knew, but every now and then something would crop up, some memory, some little thing that reminded her of him…

Her eyes moved to the picture of Fred and George on the wall, with Fred slinging his hand over George's shoulder and both of them laughing at some unknown joke. Her son, forever nineteen… _He should have been here. He should have been playing with his nephew, coming up with new pranks, driving me up the wall… _She closed her eyes. A tear trailed quietly down her cheek.

"Granna?" A small voice came from before her. "Jamie is sowwie. Don' cwy, Granna." She opened her eyes to see James scrambling into her lap, and for a second… she could see Fred in his wide brown eyes.

She hugged him fiercely. "It's not your fault, dear. It's just…" Her voice broke. "See that picture there?" She pointed at the photograph of the twins.

He nodded solemnly. "That's Unca George. And…" He stopped, confused.

"That's your Uncle Fred. He went to live with the angels… and well, Grandma just misses him right now." She held him tighter, willing the tears to stop.

After a while, she heard a tentative "Red…?" She looked up to see her grandson pointing at the gloriously rich red of Fred Weasley's hair. She laughed, a joyful contented sound, free from any shadows that her memories had thrown on her. Maybe he wasn't actually there, but Fred Weasley would live on forever, in the minds and hearts of every person he had touched in his life.

She looked down fondly at the toddler straddling her lap. _And maybe even in those he never met._

"That's right, James."

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><p><strong>Just a bit of family fluff. Review and let me know what you think!<strong>

**29/12/11: I can barely believe this, but this placed second in the competition!**


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